BLUEPRINT FOR A CHAMPION With a fiscal juggling act, club president Carmen Policy helped rebuild the 49ers

A couple of hours after the San Francisco 49ers had throttled theDallas Cowboys in the NFC Championship Game, Niner president CarmenPolicy raised his voice to proclaim a different sort of victory. Allseason long, Policy had been absorbing broadsides from various NFLteam executives -- few of whom wished to be identified -- about howhe had circumvented the league salary cap by hiding money. Policy hadmortgaged the 49ers' future in order to beat Dallas, his criticsdeclared, and the Niners' house would crumble when the bills camedue.''I just wish,'' Policy said through semiclenched teeth, ''thatall the people who have questioned us would take the time to actuallyseek out the truth. Call the league and see what we've done. Look atour contracts. We * haven't mortgaged our future. We worked withinthe confines of the cap without wrecking our future, and we won.''The salary cap, $34.6 million per team in 1994, was instituted bythe NFL to keep free-spending teams like the Washington Redskins andthe 49ers from cornering the market on the best players in the newera of free agency. San Francisco, with an annual payroll of morethan $40 million for each of the three years before the cap went intoeffect in December 1993, was faced with a serious problem: how toimprove to Dallas's level while cutting salaries.Well, the 49ers did it, conquering one of the finest teams of ourtime and doing it in no small part because of the fiscal skill andnegotiating savvy of Policy. In the NFL of the '90s, a skillfulcap-master in the front office is every bit as vital to a team'ssuccess as the coach on the field or the scouts who beat the bushesfor talent. And Policy, 51, a veteran of two decades as a triallawyer in Youngstown, Ohio, before Niner owner Eddie DeBartolo Jr.brought him west as club president in 1991, is the best in thebusiness. ''My talent,'' says Policy, ''is problem solving. I think Imay have a unique ability to overcome -- or at least to try toovercome -- what might be perceived as insurmountable problems.''Even before the 49ers had lost their second straight NFCChampionship Game to Dallas a year ago, the Niner brain trust haddetermined that substantial defensive improvements were in order.With the salary cap on the horizon, Policy would have to persuadeDeBartolo to lay out substantial sums immediately because playerssigned after Dec. 23, 1993, would count toward '94 and beyond;players signed during '93 would have large chunks of their contractsassigned to that year's capless budget.Policy flew to Youngstown to sell DeBartolo on his plan. Hetargeted nine key players -- including tackles Harris Barton andSteve Wallace, tight end Brent Jones, wideout John Taylor and safetyMerton Hanks -- and told the owner, If we spend $11 million inup-front money on these guys now, we'll lessen our cap hit and we'llbe able to sign every key player who is scheduled to become a freeagent in '94 and '95. DeBartolo agreed, and the stalwarts weresigned. The 49ers now have every key veteran in place until at leastthe end of the '96 season. ''That enabled us to be the hunter in freeagency,'' Policy says, ''and not the hunted.''The 49ers were now free to pick and choose a couple of defensivefree agents with the few dollars they had left under the cap. Incame linebackers Ken Norton Jr. from Dallas and Gary Plummer from theSan Diego Chargers. As gravy to those deals, Norton helped his newteam by offering the 49ers scouting tips on the Cowboys before thetitle game, and Plummer chipped in some observations on the Chargersbefore the Super Bowl win.The 49ers' best move of the off-season, though, was picking updefensive tackle Bryant Young with the seventh pick in the firstround of the '94 draft. Young, teamed with fellow tackle DanaStubblefield, would give the 49ers the best tandem of young,run-stuffing interior defensive linemen in the NFL.But wait a minute: How did the Niners, who had made it to theprevious NFC title game, secure such a high draft choice? Give Policycredit here, too -- with an assist from Joe Montana. When the 49ersbowed to Montana's request to be traded in April 1993, they had twoserious offers for him, from the Arizona Cardinals and the KansasCity Chiefs. Montana wanted to go to Kansas City because the Chiefswere a far better team, yet the Cards' offer was more attractive thanthat of the Chiefs (Kansas City wanted to deal only a third- roundpick for Montana). Policy held firm until the Chiefs finally offeredtheir first-round pick of the '93 draft for Montana (together withNiner safety David Whitmore and San Francisco's third-round choice).Using that Chief draft pick plus a combination of others over thenext two drafts, the 49ers obtained their defensive middle for yearsto come -- Young and Stubblefield. Had Policy not held out for theChiefs' first pick, the Niners would probably never have gottenYoung, who was certain to be someone's top-10 pick. He was voted thisseason's NFL Defensive Rookie of the Year.The '94 draft also produced fullback William Floyd, the 28thoverall pick, who became a starter at midseason and rushed for fourtouchdowns in the 49ers' two playoff wins, including a rookie-recordthree against the Chicago Bears.With the draft completed, Policy and the Niners focused onobtaining players who would throw Cowboy quarterback Troy Aikman offhis game and signed Richard Dent and Rickey Jackson, a couple ofveteran pass rushers with a season or two left.Policy certainly benefits from the fact that players will oftenmake sacrifices in order to play for the 49ers. Jackson andnickelback Toi Cook, for instance, signed with San Francisco for theNFL minimum of $162,000 this season, spurning contracts from otherteams that would have paid them much more. Yet keeping any rostertogether today requires shrewd business and football acumen. Policyknows how far he can push a player before pulling the trigger on adeal, and he knows that no NFL executive can afford to makesentimental financial decisions -- for example, overpaying players indeference to their past performances.He also knows when he can call upon a player's emotionalattachment to the 49ers. San Francisco was snug against the cap inSeptember and could not afford to field a practice squad. Policy wentto wide receiver Jerry Rice and explained in detail the club'sfinances so that Rice might appreciate the bind his team was in. Ricehanded over his $175,000 package of incentives, which covered about60% of the necessary tab, and after running back Ricky Watters andsafety Tim McDonald chipped in another $90,000, the 49ers had theirpractice squad -- including two young receivers who served to lessenthe practice wear and tear on Rice.But Policy's masterstroke was yet to come: the wooing of DeionSanders. A free agent after five seasons with the Atlanta Falcons,Sanders had long-term offers worth at least $3 million a year fromthe Miami Dolphins and the New Orleans Saints, but he gave everyindication of wanting to join the 49ers. Policy kept tellingSanders's agent, Eugene Parker, that the 49ers would not offer morethan a one-year, below-market contract. On Labor Day weekend, Policyknew that Sanders would be in San Francisco to see a pal of his, rapstar Hammer. DeBartolo was scheduled to be in town for an NFLfunction kicking off the league's 75th season. Policy called Parkerand suggested that he and Sanders show up at the event. They did andcaused quite a stir when they arrived.''Who's that?'' DeBartolo said.''It's Deion Sanders,'' Policy replied, ''and he must be here tosee you.''DeBartolo and Sanders took an hour-long walk. When they returned,DeBartolo said to Policy, ''I want him. Find a way to sign him.''Policy got Sanders and Parker to accept the one-year deal, thenrewrote the contracts of three other San Francisco players, extendingeach one by a year to postpone the cap liability. And Sanders was a49er.Some fancy dealing, to be sure, but does it not sound as if thosecritics are on the mark when they accuse Policy of sacrificingtomorrow for today? The 49ers have so much money tied up in deferredcontracts, whisper rival general | managers, that a spate of injurieswill ruin them for the future. And what about all that incentivemoney the Niners owed to veterans when the team went all the way?Policy has a ready answer for all of his detractors. Leaningforward in his chair at a football-shaped table in the Niners'conference room, he pushes an NFL salary sheet across the table, withthis number written at the bottom: $1,597,236. That is the amount,says Policy, that the 49ers had to pay players in incentive moneyafter the Super Bowl win. Furthermore, the 49ers finished smack inthe middle of the league this season in total deferred payments.That's hardly mortgaging the future.Now that he has done so well in stabilizing the 49ers for the nextfew years, Policy could well begin to hear his phone ring. You see,he's available -- probably the only NFL club chief working without acontract, a circumstance he recently revealed to SI. You could make akilling, he was told. You could run somebody's front office for bigmoney.''No, thanks,'' he says. ''I like our style. Eddie demandsvictories and won't accept anything less, and I like that competitiveaspect of the job. I want to be in a place that demandschampionship-caliber excellence.''The club is already plotting commando raids on the salary cap fornext season. ''If people in the NFL were mad at us this season, waittill next year,'' says Plummer. He's right. The 49ers will try topersuade Sanders to take less money than he could get on the openmarket and sign a long-term contract with San Francisco. Policy'smind is already working overtime on this legal brief.''When we signed Deion,'' he says, ''we weren't ready to make acommitment. Now we're ready to give him a ring. We're ready to walkdown the aisle with him.'' As much as the rest of the league hopesthat won't happen, it wouldn't be wise to bet against the 49ers andPolicy on this one.Or on anything.